


The Witch's Son

by catiemo



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-12
Updated: 2015-05-12
Packaged: 2018-03-30 04:45:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3923422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/catiemo/pseuds/catiemo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Basically an AU where Rowena and Crowley have a decent mother-son relationship</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Witch's Son

                Fergus MacLeod didn’t realize his mother was strange until he began spending time with the little boy next door. His mother never made things float or heal his scraped knees with a thought. She wasn’t as full of energy and life as Rowena either, all barely contained right there under her skin, only noticeable by the twinkle in her eyes.

                He was five when it was explained to him. “You know how mommy can make things happen that other people can’t?” Fergus nodded his acknowledgment and she continued. “It’s something called witchcraft and it can be very dangerous. What I do are practically parlor tricks, but if anyone found out, I could be taken away from you. You understand?” Again, Fergus nodded. “Okay, so you just keep this all quiet and maybe I can teach you a little when you’re older.”

                Fergus’s face lit up and Rowena smiled softly at him. “You’re such a good boy,” she cooed, ruffling his hair, “now go fetch me some carrots from the cellar.”

               

                As he grew, Fergus began to notice more and more; like how Rowena could keep a fire blazing all night with nothing but some kindling or how none of their dishes ever seemed to get dirty. He also noticed the looks. Women in the market eying them suspiciously, their neighbors’ hateful stares. It hurt Fergus, but Rowena assured him that it was fine. “It’s the price of being exceptional, dear.”

               

                It took a lot of persistence to finally convince Rowena to teach him. It wasn’t until he was twelve that she stopped saying he was too young. She started simply, teaching him a levitation charm. He had a little trouble at first but when he finally got the feather to stay in the air, they shared a look of triumph.

                From there it escalated to spells to help with chores and potions to help their crops grow and keep their livestock healthy. He was much better with the potions and Rowena praised him wildly. Their farm had never been more prosperous.

               

When he was sixteen, he began sneaking out of his room late at night to read Rowena’s spell books. He found all kinds of charms and enchantments and even curses (he was fascinated by those, but that’s not what he was searching for). He eventually came upon a mood indicator enchantment. It was perfect.

He presented the necklace to his mother on her birthday. It was a cheap thing and the gem was made of glass, but that wasn’t the point. Rowena was able to sense the enchantment immediately. “Oh, Fergus,” she cooed, “it’s wonderful. When did you learn this?” The gem turned purple, and Fergus smiled at her happiness.

“I taught myself while you slept,” He said, “I wanted to surprise you.”

“Well consider me surprised,” she smiled at him before pulling him into a hug. It was a rare gesture, and Fergus appreciated it.

 

Fergus never expected to be a father. He wasn’t married, and he wouldn’t have had anything to do with the boy if his mother hadn’t died. He felt responsible enough to take him in. It wasn’t easy, but he had Rowena to help him. He decided to name him Gavin.

Gavin was, by all accounts, a normal boy. He didn’t possess any of the intrinsic magic that Crowley had displayed since childhood, but he still grew up knowing about it and even learned some potions and a few simple spells. They were happy, but then Rowena began dealing with demons.

“It’s just to strengthen my magic, dearies,” she assured them, “I’m not making any deals with them, just letting them flex their muscles a little. It’s all harmless, really.”

 Gavin didn’t like it one bit, and as he was now old enough to fend for himself, he ran away in the middle of the night. Fergus was heartbroken, but he didn’t try to find him; he figured it was for the best.

 

Years later, when the demon came to collect Rowena’s soul, Fergus couldn’t allow it. “Take mine instead,” he insisted.

The demon appraised him for a few moments. “Your soul is brighter, less damaged. Yes, I think I’ll take that offer.”

“Just…please give me some time. You tricked my mother, so I think the least you could offer me is five years.”

“Two years,” she countered, “and I’ll throw in a few extra inches to your manhood,” she nodded toward his crotch in a condescending manner, but it didn’t elicit the desired response.

“I’ll take it, but you allow Rowena to keep everything. Her powers, her youth, the farm; everything you helped her get.”

“Fine,” the demon snapped her fingers, releasing the bonds she had placed on Rowena before planting a hard kiss on Fergus’s lips. “See you in two years,” she said, and with another snap, she was gone.

Rowena ran to him and pulled him into a hug before slapping him on the arm. “What the hell did you do that for? I made my bed, I intended to lie in it, even if it wasn’t what I expected.”

“I couldn’t let you,” Fergus said, tears welling in his eyes, “I love you.”

“Oh, I love you too, my sweet boy,” Rowena said, “but just two years? It’s hardly much time.”

“It’s enough time to prepare myself,” Fergus said.

“I don’t think anyone can prepare to go to hell,” Rowena said.

“Not just to go to hell,” Fergus said with a determined grin, “to rule it.”

 

The time came for Fergus to go to hell. He had done his research. He knew the fastest way to become full demon was to let yourself feel everything. It was terrible and terrifying, but he managed. Fifty years passed and the pain of torture began to fade. Another twenty and he found his way out of Hell and began working the crossroads.

His first deal was pretty simple, but he got lucky. In the ten years he was waiting for that first payoff, the man who had bargained his soul for a promotion recommended him and there was a flood of deals in his territory.

Taking that first soul was a rush he had never felt before and each soul after was just as exhilarating. Within another ten years, he was being called “king of the crossroads” and he had all but forgotten the name Fergus, opting to be called Crowley.

And things went the same for centuries more. He never tried to find his mother. He figured she would be happy and seeing her son as a demon would break her heart, and while his demon side told him that it didn’t matter what she thought, and also that he shouldn’t want to see her anyway, there was still a part of him that was still his mother’s loving son.

 

                When Lucifer was recaged with minimal damage, Crowley decided that hell needed new leadership, so he stepped up. It wasn’t easy gaining control, but he already had a measure of success, so he implemented some new rules and things were running smoothly. He was the king of hell.

                When Rowena heard of this from her demon contacts, she was mildly interested. She wanted to meet this new king and pay her respects. The meeting was arranged through a series of intermediates and when Crowley popped into her home, he smiled happily at her.

                “Hello, mother.”

                “Fergus?” Rowena stammered, unable to believe that this really was her son, “You look so different.”

                “Well, new meat suit and all that,” Crowley teased, “but you look the same. You chose a good age to keep.”

                “Yes,” Rowena agreed, “I couldn’t very well have reversed the aging process, but slowing and stopping it, that’s simple.”

                They dropped the formalities and embraced. “I’m sorry I haven’t come to see you sooner,” he said, “but I’ve been busy.”

                “I wasn’t expecting it,” Rowena said, “I knew you’d become a demon, and I figured you had forgotten about me or at the very least no longer cared.”

                “I could never forget you, mother,” Crowley said with a smile.

                “And in all this time, I’ve never forgotten you,” Rowena said, “and now you’re the king of hell! I’m so proud of you.”

                Crowley beamed under her praise. It was all he had ever wanted to hear from her.

Obviously, he didn’t want to take her into hell with him, but he made arrangements and Rowena became his go-between with the witches of the world. The grand coven was forced to take her back as a ruling member and Crowley freely gave her power and control without expecting anything back. When souls were low, Rowena recruited more witches to make deals with demons, and when hunters got close to taking out the coven, Crowley interceded and protected them. It was a great give-and-take relationship.

After a few centuries, Rowena was killed by a hunter. Crowley mourned for her, but he made sure to have a smile on his face when he greeted her in hell.

**Author's Note:**

> this basically came to me after The Werther Project because I needed something happy


End file.
